The eyes have it

Metamorphisizing into 20/20

After 25 years of being called “four-eyes” – most recently by my husband who swears it’s a term of endearment – I have officially joined the ranks of the seeing community, sans glasses or contacts.

But it wasn’t my idea. I hadn’t even entertained the thought. It was all Steve Derr. He, too, had worn glasses/contacts for many years and was looking for a “surgery buddy.” I fit the bill. 

After finding a reasonably priced clinic in Munich, and after a few appointments to determine we were qualified for the operation, we prepared ourselves for Lasik last Tuesday.

Now, every person I spoke to who has had this procedure told me it was the best thing they ever did.

Last known shot of "four-eyes." 

Every single person raved about it. Not one, (seriously, not one) told me anything about the uncomfortable, burning, blurry, itchiness that comes directly after, not to mention the smell of burning eyeball you have to endure during the surgery. But all and all it was worth it. I’ve had a few days to heal and I rather enjoy waking up to a sharp husband rather than a blurry outline of what I have always trusted to be Jeremy.

The day of the surgery, however, wasn’t as clear. After lying down on a table, the doctor taped my eye open, then suctioned my eyeball straight. As he began to cut into my cornea, he repeated over and over again “don’t move, stay still, don’t move.”

Seriously? What if I had to sneeze? What would actually happen if I did move?

Then the laser came, and the “don’t move, stay still, don’t move,” was only amplified by a burning stench as my cornea was shaved down. (It sort of smelled like my hair was on fire).

The procedure itself took about 10 minutes and I  didn’t feel anything, really, just a bit of pressure peppered with an uneasy feeling in my gut. Post-op, you don a pair of goggles that must have come from the set of “The Fly.”

I couldn’t see a thing.

Luckily for Steve and me, Jeremy offered to be our shepherd for the day. He took us by the hand and guided us to our hotel room, where we tried our best to sleep off the pain.

But that’s all behind us though. Now we can actually focus on what’s in front of us. 

The next day: We are not trying to look cool. We are trying not to cry.